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Arkwright, G. E. P.
Arkwright, Godfrey Edward
Arkwright, Godfrey Edward Pellew
Creation class: 
Language material
Notated music
Creation role: 
Related names: 
Ferrabosco, Alfonso (1578-1628)
Kirbye, George (15..-1634)
Olschki, Leo Samuel (1861-1940)
Pilkington, Francis (1570?-1638)
Pirro, André (1869-1943)
Purcell, H.
Purcell, Henry (1659-1695)
Scoto, Girolamo (1505?-1572)
Wilbye, John (1574-1638)
Wooldridge, Harry Ellis (1845-1917)
Catalogue of music in the Library of Christ Church, Oxford
Come, come all you that draw Heav'n's purest breath
Con lei fuss'io da che si part'il sole
Cosi mi guid'amore
Donna gentil i bei vostri occhi ardenti
dove il sol piu tardi a noi s'adombra, La
fair lover and his black mistress, The
here my heart I leave with her remaining, Lo
Homo natus de muliere : SSATTB
If Pity reign with Beauty
In Thee, o Lord, do I put my trust (3 soli, choeur à 4 v., 3 instr., bc avec réalisation pour orgue)
Io non so dir parole
It is a good thing to give thanks (3 soli, choeur à 4 v., 3 instr., bc avec réalisation pour orgue)
Lady, if you so spite me
Like as from heav'n
Look Mistress mine, within this hollow breast
Lord for Thy tender mercy's sake (Anthem) (4 v.)
Lord is my light (3 soli, choeur à 4 v., 3 instr., bc avec réalisation pour orgue), The
Madonna io son un medico perfetto
Mourn now my soul with anguish of my pain
Music dear solace to my thoughts neglected
Must I part, O my jewel
My choice is made and I desire no change
My heart is fixed (3 soli, choeur à 4 v., 3 instr., bc avec réalisation pour orgue)
Nasce bella sovente
Nasce fra l'herb'un fiore
nightingale so pleasant and so gay, The
Non ved' hoggi 'l mio sole
Non veggi'ove scampar mi possa homai
Novo piacer che nelli humani ingegni
Now let her change and spare not
Now peep, bo-peep thrice happy blest mine eyes
O Heav'ns what shall I do ? Alas must I
O praise God in His holiness (2 choeurs à 4 v., 3 instr., bc avec réalisation pour orgue)
O sweet kiss, full of comfort
Old English edition, 1889-1902:, The
pavin for the lute and bass viol, A
Per Dio tu sei cortese
Per inhospiti boschi
Perche piu acerba set' e piu rubella
Praise the Lord, O my soul (6 v., 3 instr., bc avec réalisation pour orgue)
primo libro de Madrigali a quatro voci, de diversi autori a notte negre, con la sua giunta, novamente ristampati e corretti, Il
Qual anima ignorante over piu saggia
Qual fia 'l dolore nella crudel partita
Qual vista sarà mai
Quando son piu lontan de bei vostri occhi
Quel si grave dolore ch'io sentirò
Quell'ardente desir ch'amor mi diède
Questi soavi fiori
Rejoice in the Lord alway (3 soli, choeur à 4 v., 3 instr., bc avec réalisation pour orgue)
Rest, sweet nymphs let golden sleep
Rise, mighty monarch, and ascend the throne (1 v.)
Rubies and pearls and treasure
S'io credessi per mort'essere scarco
Sacred music
saw my lady weeping, I
Sdruccioli di Ruggierro Giovanelli, ... Il primo libro de madrigali, a quattro voci. Nuovamente ristampati, et in questa terza impressione corretta
Se la presentia vostra
See that my plaints with rigour long rejected
See, what a maze of error
Self-banished, out of waller, The
She only doth not feel it
Shepherds deck your crooks (1 v. et ch 2 à 3 v.)
sigh as sure to wear the fruit, I
Sleep now, my Muse, and henceforth take thy rest
So far from my delight
Solea lontan in sonno consolarme
Sometime my hope full weakly went on by line and leisure
Sorrow consumes me, and, instead of rest
Sound out my voice with pleasant tunes recording
Sound woeful plaints, in hills and woods
Susanna fair whom lying lips defamed
Sweet love, O cease thy flying
Tant'e l'ardor, la fe che meco porto
Thanks, gentle moon for thy obscured light
That Muse which sung the beauty of thy face
These that be certain signs of my torment
Thirsis to Cloris pleaded
Troppo scarsa madonna sete
Underneath a cypress shade the Queen of love sat mourning
Up then, Melpomene ! the mournful'st Muse of nine
Vezzosi fiori e vaghi
Vidi pianger madonna.
What can I do my dearest
What is't to us who guides the State (1 v.)
What, shall I part thus unregarded
Whither so fast ?
Why should I love, since she doth prove ungrateful
Why wail we thus, why weary we the gods with plaints
With fragrant flow'rs we strew the way
Woe am I, my heart dies
works of Henry Purcell, The
Works... Vol. XVII, The
You that pine in long desire